Broken Heart
by AmeliaStriker
Summary: What if the Darcy that came to Hertfordshire was a very different one: who had loved, was loved and was broken by love. Darcy's love changes him but will he get over his first true love and fall for Elizabeth or will he forever have a broken heart?
1. Chapter 1

I really believe that this story is the first I'm truly dedicated to. I'm not brilliant at writing, still very young but hopefully you can give me some constructive criticism and maybe someone who's willing to tell me my mistakes or how I could make it better? Anyways, enjoy.

_Darcy is four at the beginning._

Fitzwilliam's eyes grew wide as he took in the sight before him, tentatively moving closer to the bundle wrapped in a light pink.

"Her name is Amelia." The soft voice of his godmother was laced with exhaustion and her tired eyes coaxed him to move closer to her and the babe in her arms.

"And she came here today? I hadn't seen a carriage come to the house earlier..." Fitzwillam's eyebrows scrunched, a confused frown on his lips as his parents chuckled behind him, lounging on the parlour love seat.

"No dear, she's mine and your Uncle Charles' daughter. She was born but a few hours ago." They weren't his real aunt and uncle, mama had told him, but he wished they were instead of aunt Catherine. Mama had laughed at that before softly admonishing him. It had only been the truth.

"Born? Like I was? Mama said I fell from the heavens that's why I've got this bump, see?" He pointed to a purple bruise on his forehead urging his godparents to look at it, a proud smile on his face as if it were a battle scar. Amelia's little hands reached towards him as if for the scar, his smile grew wider.

"No, that you got yesterday from falling from a tree, what have we said about lying Fitzwilliam, as well as climbing trees?" His mother said although her eyes danced with mirth at her son's pride, like his father she thought.

"Well, I must've had a bruise similar to this from falling all that way, you've probably just forgotten." He said insistently, "right father?"

George Darcy smiled indulgently at his son. "He does rather have a point and you are forgetful dear. Now that you mention it, son, you did look rather... Dishevelled upon your... Arrival" the four adults looked to each other trying to prevent their laughter from bursting out, while Fitzwilliam, oblivious to his father's true meaning, nodded his head vigorously.

"See mama, I was right. But..." He bit his lip as he once again peeked at the small infant, she gurgled a few none comprehensible words, he'd have to teach her how to speak English soon otherwise George would just make fun of what must be some angelic language she currently speaks.

"What is it, Fitz?" Asked his uncle Charlie as his hand clasped his shoulder, he was a strong man both he and George Darcy had hunted together for years.

"She has no bump or bruise, she's beautiful."

* * *

Darcy watched as his friend reluctantly tore away from miss Bennett's side, she truly was an English beauty but he was not drawn to the contained and beautiful miss Bennett, quite the opposite to his poor friend, he did not yet know love hurts. A lopsided smile filled Bingley's countenance as he sprung happily to Darcy's side. A fool in love, Darcy laughed in his mind, it was quite the picture. Amelia would have reprimanded him for reading Bingley, she had said, "love is not a curse but a spell so enchanting, it's beauty is a dream," he still remembered the wistful look on her fair countenance as her sweet voice whispered those words. She was right, she always was but then it felt impossible that he feel so wretchedly cursed in love.

"Darcy? Are you ill?" Darcy's attention snapped to his red haired friend, the smile only slightly disrupted by a small frown in his brow.

"Of course, why would I be?" Darcy feigned normalcy, but Bingley saw through his facade. They both knew the answer.

"You love to dance and yet you are here, alone, brooding."

"I am not brooding. Nor do I love dancing per se, it is the partner you are accompanied with that makes the activity amiable and even pleasurable" Darcy insisted, he need not mention which partner he particularly preferred, though they both knew it was not miss Bingley and rather the person Darcy was alluding to surpassed her in style, grace and intelligence.

"Well, choose a partner among the ladies tonight for they all seem amiable and I dare say more than tolerable." Bingley's eyes trailed to where miss Bennett was a shot distance away, she laughed charmingly while her sister, miss Elizabeth smirked beside her, likely the instigator of some humorous tale. Darcy smiled a little at how she could be so contained while her sister remained in ruptures of mirth.

* * *

"Enough now Elizabeth, you tease too much." Jane said, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye, "poor mr Elliot, you are too cruel!"

"My sister doth protest too much," Elizabeth said to Charlotte, she turned back to Jane, "I did not hear your contradictions for his defence."

"Fine you speak the truth yet you must not make light of all's misfortunes and peculiarities. You cannot for mr Bingley is a perfect gentlemen-"

"Yes we have all heard how highly you think of him and you have only known him for the better part of an evening." Elizabeth said heartily, entirely happy for her sister as mr Bingley's attentions had monopolised Elizabeth's thoughts all night.

"And mr Darcy too, he had danced every set but the last and that only to get a drink and talk with Sir William. Besides, look, he is smiling and even you could not tease him for that as it becomes him and shows his enjoyment of the evening." Jane said, the gentlemen in question looking to them.

"Yet the night is young and there has been only three sets, I cannot judge him yet but he is not to be praised yet either despite his apparent enjoyment of the evening though that does clear him of prejudice against the poorer."

"Oh, but Lizzy, surely you can allow him to be free of your harsh judgement for he is smiling at you most clearly." Charlotte laughed causing Jane to giggle and Elizabeth to blush prettily as the gentleman nodded in their direction, at her.

The smile, Elizabeth had thought, lifted his countenance and brightened his deep, blue eyes, not that the colour of his eyes was anything she took note of, no, she was thinking objectively of course or at leas she justified it as such.

Now at a loss as to the current conversation, Elizabeth was content to simply amuse herself with her companions movements and expressions, a pair of blue eyes she fought not to dwell on.

Someone cleared their throat behind her causing her to jump slightly, she turned around to face mr Darcy, his eyes twinkling topaz.

"Sorry, I did not mean to startle you, miss Elizabeth." His voice was serious and apologetic but the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth told her otherwise. He had wanted to surprise; not many could.

"Not at all, you could never truly startle me mr Darcy for my courage rises to every attempt to frighten me so whether a horrid beast comes before me or a well mannered gentlemen tries to startle me is all never be shocked nor surprised, my pride would not all me to be so."

"Oh really? Well, miss Elizabeth I wish to remedy that for there is a lot of fun in surprises. You see I was most surprised when my friend commissioned me to Hertfordshire and now I see that the opportunity to dance with you has arisen from that surprise and that, I believe will give me great pleasure. Would you like to dance with a, what is it you called me, horrid beast for well mannered seems like a much too polite word for someone who has the audacity to shock a lady, shall we?

Elizabeth reached for Mr Darcy's outstretched arm gladly, se would be lying of she said she was not surprised t the seemingly shy Mr Darcy brooding with his drink earlier would be quite the quick witted, amiable gentlemen.


	2. Chapter 2

Hi people of the fanfiction world or at least those who are reading this, a very small minority! I apologise for taking the mick to write this, I wasn't feeling very motivated but the reviews helped so thank you all so much for them as well as the favourites and follows! Darcy is four years older than Amelia, ten years older than Georgiana, his mother died giving birth to her and his father died 8 years later when Darcy was 18. I think that's all I felt the need to clear up, anything else? Questions and queries? Oh I've got a question: what do to think Darcy's great sadness is exactly? Anyways, I've tried to improv my writing upon suggestions (mr- Mr etc.) and I hope you all enjoy.

* * *

"Mama?"

The lady of the house smiled as she saw her little William tuck a wisp of auburn hair behind the babe's ear, it was her name day- the very first. Amelia's parents wished to have it in Pemberly, where she had been brought into the world or conveniently fallen from the heavens as Fitzwilliam would have the whole of lambton believe, 'an angel amongst our midst.'

Mrs Anne Darcy was of course honoured to have her old and greatest friends celebrate in her home, she doted on their daughter like she would her own.

"Yes Dear? What is it?" She asked noting the frown in her son's brow.

"It's just... It's not fair!" He said fervently, though whispering still as if he was wary of waking the sleeping child, all tired of the days festivities: boat races, picnics, fencing and receiving gifts, many gifts. "What's not fair?" The woman frowned prettily confused as to what her son meant.

"Charlie has already a brother he has no need of another sibling, why can't we take Amelia, why can't 'Melia live here, with us?" He wined, his eyes shining as he watched young Charles and Edward fight with their wooden swords. "And what of Aunt Georgiana? Uncle Charles? Are Mr and Mrs Knightley to give up their sweet, beloved daughter to you?" Mrs Darcy truly felt for her son, he was smitten as soon as he saw her a year ago, and ever since had been seemingly surgically attached to her. Protecting and caring for her.

"Would you truly do that to poor Uncle Charlie and Aunt Georgie?" William looked a little guilty and ashamed yet still had a stubborn look about him, he was determined.

"They have Charlie and Eddie, I have no one but George and he's always getting into mischief and leaving me with the trouble. It's not fair!" The five year old stomped his foot lightly which caused the babe to mumble in his arms.

"Shhh.." He whispered to her, humming a small sung to get her to rest more easily. "Would you like another sibling? Is that it?" Mr and Mrs Darcy thought their son perfect but had been wanting more children for a while,a girl perhaps yet it came to naught and it wasn't for lack of trying.

The young mother swallowed down her pain, "a sister perhaps?"

"No, I mean, maybe but I want Amelia, I want Amelia to live here with us. Like you live with papa."

"And maybe you will one day, son, maybe you shall marry your sweet friend but the wait is long yet but believe me it makes it more worth it." Mr Darcy's deep voice called out as he began to seat himself next to his wife, placing a kiss on her cheek causing her to blush sweetly.

"Yes, I will marry her like you and father and we shall play horses and climb trees and play chase... I shall even play dress up and with her dolls for her." Darcy's frown quickly changed to a grin and his whining to excitement.

"And what a fine husband you should make." Mr Darcy chuckled along with his wife as his son place a kiss on little Amelia's cheek.

* * *

Elizabeth smiled fondly as her sister continued to speak in raptures about Mr Bingley. She had long ago stopped listening, which was odd as she usually held her sister in the highest regard and valued her sane conversation, a rare luxury in Longbourn.

Tonight, however, as she lay in her bed half-listening as Jane assumed the innocence of never talking directly of Mr Bingley simply alluding to him, hinting and talking of everything around and to do with him.

She was trying to persuade herself to be indifferent, Lizzie almost laughed but she stopped herself.

She had also been fighting with herself, although her pride allowed her not to recognise her interest in Mr Darcy it was nevertheless there. He had been solemn during the beginning of the evening, as if a deep sadness had overcome him.

At first Lizzie believe it to be as a result of the company around him, she believed him to be haughty but now she was less sure of her first convictions. He had danced with her, Jane, Charlotte, Mary even, Miss White and her again as well as dancing with the ladies of his own party; Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst. And he began to smile more as if slowly being alleviate from the sadness he had felt previously. It seemed to be one of grief, sorrow and pain. Too great to be one of indifference to his company.

He wasn't entirely free from it, however, he visibly winced sometimes in conversation whether it was books or horses. He grimaced when they talked of poetry and love and went silent after. They say his mother had died after the birth of his sister but that was well over a decade ago. His father had died 8 years after her. He had only his sister but this wound seemed fresh.

Not that any of this had a thing to do with Elizabeth Bennett, the depth of his pain or colour of his eyes, a twinkling blue, she thought, meant nothing to her. He was handsome, witty, well mannered and... Broken. Elizabeth could not care less, or so she tried to tell herself. There is nothing wrong with finding a person of the opposite sex interesting.

"Lizzie are you even listening to me?" Jane said exasperated.

"Of course, dear, Mr Bingley is very amiable, well mannered and quite handsome." Lizzie smiled as she teased her sister.

Jane frowned, "there's nothing wrong with finding a member of the opposite sex interesting."

_Oh dear. _


End file.
